


From The Ground Up

by Helasdottir



Series: The Three Fates [3]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Antenatal Depression, Difficult Pregnancy, Established Relationship, F/M, Healthy Relationships, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2020-03-19 21:08:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18978382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helasdottir/pseuds/Helasdottir
Summary: “Kara,” he says her name with enough reverence to make her legs weak, and then she’s back on her feet with that hulking tower of a man kneeling in front of her, pressing warm lips to her clothed belly. “You are incredible.”This story happens in the Three Fates universe and can be read as a companion piece to the main stories, but it is entirely independent of those plots.





	From The Ground Up

**Author's Note:**

> Additional warnings: this story details a difficult pregnancy and mentions the possibility of a miscarriage. Please don't read if this is in any way triggering.
> 
> And we'll build this love from the ground up  
> For worse or for better  
> And I will be all you need  
> Beside you I'll stand through the good and the bad  
> We'll give all that we have  
> And we'll build this love from the ground up

Two years.

Kara looks down at the plastic stick in her hand, tears welling in her eyes because after two years it finally shows two pink lines, one fainter than the other.

It takes her a few minutes to compose herself. She cleans up, wipes her cheeks dry, stands in front of the mirror and tries to think of how her body might change. She knows it’s premature to think of maternity clothes and weekends spent decorating the nursery in their little home, it’s far too early to let anyone else know, but those thoughts still fill her mind.

The excitement almost makes her text Luther, but that’s no way to let him know.

She takes one of her homemade lasagnas from the freezer, slides it into the oven to bake. Watches the clock more closely than usual, even though she knows Luther always comes straight home from work.

The table is set, the glass pan out on a wooden board to cool, and the radio plays a ballad from the seventies.

Luther walks through the door.

Kara’s heart skips a beat because she can see he’s tired but there’s no tension in his shoulders, nothing bothering him at the end of the workday because he’s happy to come home and have her waiting.

She almost bursts into tears again when he leans down to kiss her forehead, and smiles hopelessly when she sees the concern in his eyes.

“We did it,” she says, taking hold of a strong hand and squeezing it because she can’t believe it’s true. “I’m pregnant.”

Luther moves then and everything blurs, because he picks her up and spins her in the air, hugs her close to his body, ever-conscious of where he applies pressure because he couldn’t bear to hurt her.

“Kara,” he says her name with enough reverence to make her legs weak, and then she’s back on her feet with that hulking tower of a man kneeling in front of her, pressing warm lips to her clothed belly. “You are incredible.”

They make plans when they lay in bed together, and Luther can’t seem to keep his hands away from her middle. At work, she looks into the faces of her students and wonders what her baby will look like at their age, if they’ll inherit her small frame or Luther’s impressive build.

She tries to push away the worries until she can’t anymore, because she remembers their first consultations when they began to try for a baby. She remembers the doctors saying that the probability of carrying a pregnancy to term was slim, that even if she could give birth it would need to be a caesarian section, that there were too many risks involved.

She remembers talking to her coworkers, excited to plan for her family, and hearing from one of them that they wouldn’t dare bring a child into the world on a teacher’s salary. Her heart sank, she budgeted more, and Luther took a second job as a security guard at the mall to help them save.

All of it comes crashing down when she sits on the toilet and sees a brown-tinted red spot on her underwear. She’s been cramping and nauseous, but those could be natural effects of the pregnancy, her doctor had assured her it could happen. Kara knows spotting can happen, too, but it may also be a sign something very wrong.

She pushes herself to stay at work despite the dizzying fear that strikes her very core, talks through her last two classes on autopilot because her mind is somewhere else entirely. She calls Luther from the hospital and lets him know about the scare, lets him know she’s safe and the baby is safe.

At home, he kisses her sweetly, over and over. Asks about everything that happened, tells her he’ll remind her to take her vitamins and do more of the housekeeping so she can rest. She tried to tell him she’d be fine, it was only a scare, but the fatigue increased with each passing day.

She wakes up to shower before work and finds herself breathing heavily from the exertion of washing her body.

“I’m going to the doctor on Saturday,” she tells Luther, lacing their fingers together and resting her head against his strong chest. “Will you come with me?”

“Of course,” he replies, and she feels the press of his lips to the crown of her head. She sheds a single, slow-rolling tear.

Things aren’t supposed to be this hard before she even starts showing.

The doctor tells her there are no visible complications, but she can’t put much stress on her body. She gets recommended to a nutritionist and receives a list of safe exercises to perform during the week, to increase her stamina and maintain her health while the baby develops.

Things look up from there. Kara starts feeling better during school hours, more energetic as she moves around the classroom and plays with the children, teaches them new words and shapes and colors.

She breaks down when she starts bleeding again during the fourth month, her stomach only slightly rounded with promises that seem too distant. Luther holds her and tries to comfort her, but the doctor tells her these signs point to a miscarriage.

She cries again from relief when the ultrasound picks up on a heartbeat.

She cuts her exercise routine down to basic stretching and is otherwise on bedrest, with Luther working two jobs and still caring for her at home. The guilt of being a burden weighs her down more than anything else.

Luther says she’s worth the effort, that she has nothing to apologize for. He holds her as she cries, brings home treats whenever he gets the time to go by the bakery between shifts, does all of the grocery shopping himself so she doesn’t have to carry the bags.

Since there’s little for her to do in bed, she reads what other women write about their experiences. She’s comforted by the notion that all of this is more common than she could have imagined: the pain, the fatigue, the bleeding, even the prenatal depression.

She starts seeing a therapist when Luther convinces her they can spare the money, reminds her how much they’ve saved in the last few years. She tells the woman about her dreams of becoming a mother, how she’s always loved being around children and helping them grow. She mentions her fears – losing the baby, hurting the baby, hurting Luther, losing Luther.

“If our baby isn’t healthy,” she starts one day, eyes glued to the carpet because this is too much. “I know I’m a selfish person for wanting this despite the risks. I know there are other options, but I wanted this. I want this.”

She feels better when the doctor tells her she’s improving, but she’s become partially numb to dull the fear. All she can manage is a weak smile when Luther looks at her with those sweet, expressive eyes full of hope.

She grows bigger and rounder, and things get harder in an entirely more predictable way. She needs help in the shower and sometimes a hand to get up, and for the first time she’s thankful they don’t have a second floor to their house. Stairs would be a nightmare.

With the freedom to move around more, though, she enjoys warm afternoons in the park and visits old friends. Rose is always warm and receptive, a comforting voice in the darkness of her mind. Adam, once a terrified rebellious teenager, greets her with a hug and updates her on everything that’s going on with him – his first year at college, his girlfriend, his first shave, the new scars on his chest.

He places her hand on her stomach to feel the baby kick and tells her, laughing, that it’s absolutely terrifying to feel a foot pushing at him from inside her womb. Kara can’t help but laugh with him, and she realizes she missed _feeling_.

The conversation turns more serious when he’s gone, but the relief is still present in her chest throughout the whole day. Rose gives her fresh herbs for tea and makes her promise to ask the doctor if it’s safe first, even though Rose did the research herself before suggesting them.

Luther tells her she looks better that night. He covers her body in kisses and reminds her of her strength, mental and physical, in getting through this. Kara cries – she always cries – but this time they’re happy tears.

There are still low days, but they don’t come as often.

When her water breaks, she panics the whole way to the delivery room and wonders how Luther can look so composed. It’s a struggle to hold herself still when the needle goes into her back, and then she’s paralyzed and there are doctors and nurses surrounding her, and all she can do is focus on Luther’s presence by her side, his firm hand in hers.

Everything is worth it when she hears the high-pitched cry of a newborn baby, when she’s sewn back together and the child is placed in her arms for the first time, looking so much like her father with a hint of curly hair at the top of her head.

“Alice,” Kara breathes, and Luther nods silently. “Alice, you’re here.”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr @hassumccoy or @daughterofdeath and on twitter @xhelasdottir.


End file.
